


The Best Of Me

by aingealcethlenn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drinking, F/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 01:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aingealcethlenn/pseuds/aingealcethlenn
Summary: Reliving heart-wrenching memories.





	The Best Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> All in Dean’s POV. No dialogue. Based off Brantley Gilbert’s song Best of Me.
> 
> Word Count - 538

I pulled the box out from under my bed. Shifting through everything, not looking for anything special. Instead, just reminding myself how much I fucked up. I pulled out a few pictures of us. Both smiling, both happy. She was perfect. In absolutely every damn way.

Spotting the folded up pieces of paper, I pulled it out and unfolded them. I’d read this damn letter time and again. Never failing to throw myself even farther over the edge.

_No matter what, I will always love you, Dean Winchester. But I just can’t watch you destroy yourself any longer._

Who could blame her, right?

I watched as a tear fell from my eye and landed on the paper in my hand. Smearing the ink ever so slightly.

It always started this way. Reliving the past with her, reliving all the times I’d royally fucked up. Reliving all the feelings that ran through me when she walked out that door. And it never failed to end the same way too. I always end up in a bottle, screaming her name, punching walls. Anyone who might happen to see, would no doubt think I’d gone insane.

Looking into the mirror hanging over my bathroom sink, all I see staring back at me is the man who shook his head with no remorse whatsoever. I see the man who stood there and watched her cry as if he had done nothing wrong. All while she stepped over the empty beer cans and the empty bottles of whiskey, that had been strewn across the floor, as she made her way to the door one final time.

I remember the night as clear as ever. I made my way down 281, heading back to the bunker after Sam and I had finished our latest hunt. I couldn’t wait to see her beautiful smile waiting for me like usual, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to wrap her in my arms and never let go. That’s not what I found when I walked through the door. No. Instead, I walked in to see her surrounded by my stash of alcohol I’d tried to hide. No smile to be found, just tears filling her beautiful eyes, and that said it all.

Everything went downhill from there. Words were said, most that I regret. The only ones I will never forget, were when she looked me dead in the face and said, _“Baby, please don’t give up on me. Don’t you dare give up.”_ Now all I can do is lie in the bed I made.

I want so badly to make her proud, and not give up, but it’s hard. It’s hard when her memory comes on so strong, like a damn hurricane. At times, I try to figure out how a love like we had could just up and walk away, but then I remember everything I put her through. Everything she put up with. It kills me.

So I pour myself another drink and let the whiskey hit me like a goddamn freight train. My back against the wall, the tears falling without a bit of hesitation. It’s always the worst of her memory, that gets the best of me.


End file.
